


Wildest Dreams

by hobyblack



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Disturbing Themes, Horror, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:43:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobyblack/pseuds/hobyblack
Summary: Shane has had nightmares for as long as he remembers, but when he notices they start connecting to a True Crime case he wonders if they are just nightmares or if they might be memories. Ryan is there to help figure out what really happened and help Shane deal with the feelings he has buried for so long.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a Wednesday when Shane realized something was different. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but it was the third time this week he had nightmares. He woke up just before six with a massive headache. He was miserable. He couldn't remember the last time he had a meal. And he had no idea what was wrong. He went to the washroom and splashed cold water on his face. He looked tired and paler even than usual. Dark bags were noticeable under his eyes. 

"I must be sick," he concluded. He said this out loud, surprising himself. He lived alone and there was no one to hear him.

Sick. That made sense. People got sick. He knew this logically. Even if he, Shane Madej rarely got sick. Ain't nobody got time for that.

The flu maybe. He was pretty sure he had a fever. His whole body hurt.

Shane was supposed to be meeting Ryan in a couple of hours to start filming their episode of True Crime. Of course, he should go. He wasn't that sick. He felt awful, but he wasn't throwing up or anything. It wasn't bad enough to blow off work. And he didn't want to admit any kind of weakness, especially to Ryan. Shane was the tough one, Ryan was the soft one. That's just how it was. That's why they were such a good team. Polar opposites with equally chaotic energy.

_I'm turning into Bergara,_ Shane thought to himself. Having nightmares about ghosts.

Well, he would just have to get ready for work anyway. He would just have to make himself eat and shower and get dressed. When had life become so hard?

* * *

 

 "Are you okay?" Ryan asked when Shane came into the studio. Shane looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He might not have. He seemed off for a while now.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Shane asked. "Why? Do I not look fine?"

"You look fine," Ryan said. "Just a little under the weather."

"This just in. Ryan Bergara called Shane Madej fine," Shane said.

"You're an idiot," Ryan said. "And you look like crap if I'm being honest."

"Tell me how you really feel," Shane said.

How I really feel? You wouldn't want that, Ryan thought. "I'm worried about you."

Shane looked at Ryan and for a terrifying moment, their eyes locked. Shane looked like he wanted to say something. Almost like he wanted to ask for help...

_You're imagining things_ , Ryan thought. _Like Shane would ever need you._

"Let's just get to work," Shane said. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."


	2. Chapter 2

Shane was sitting in his armchair, reading a book and trying to delay going to bed for a little longer. He was freezing and when he got up out of his chair to go grab a blanket he realized that he was no longer in his living room, his house, or any house for that matter. Shane was standing in the middle of a dark forest looking at the armchair that should have been in his living room. He was almost certain he had not been naked a minute ago and even more certain that he had not been outside in the rain.

_A dream._

He picked the book up off of his recliner. Instead of letters, there were unknown symbols swirling the pages. He had remembered George R. Martin being confusing, but not _this_ confusing.

It was so cold, Shane could hardly stand it. Of course, he was cold. He was naked in the rain in the middle of the night. No. That was his brain tricking him. He was really in his living room, asleep on his chair probably still holding his book.

_Mind over matter. You’re not cold. This isn’t real._

Or was he shivering at home in his real body, too? He imagined of all things, Ryan covering him up in a blanket and leaving him to sleep. He instantly felt warmer.

“Ryan?” Shane called.

No. Ryan wasn’t in the dream and he wasn’t in Shane’s house. Shane knew the dream. He remembered having the dream as a teenager over and over again. As an adult, he had the dream once in a blue moon. But every time he thought it was gone for good, it would creep back up into his subconscious again.

There was a strange taste in his mouth. Like maybe of metal… or blood.

“I would like to wake up now,” Shane said. His voice came out much more calmly than he felt.

“You know you’re not allowed out without a chaperone,” a voice said.

“This is my dream,” Shane said. “I can wake up whenever I want to.” He wasn’t certain of that at all. He had rarely been able to wake himself up from these dreams. He would just have to wait until…

“Shane, listen to your father when he is speaking,” the voice demanded. This man didn’t resemble his real father who Shane. Shane hadn’t met this man in real life, but in the dreams, he insisted Shane call him Father, or worse, Dad. Once when Shane was in high school he had told a counsellor about the dream. She worried that he was having troubles at home and Shane never told anyone else.

“Yes, sir,” Shane said to the man.

“I have something to show you,” the man said. He wasn’t very tall and Shane could never quite remember what his face looked like. A nondescript white man in his thirties or forties. Nothing particularly stood out about him. Shane had the feeling he was ten years old again. In real life, Shane’s six feet and four inches would tower over the man but Shane was a kid again. But still naked.

_Oh, boy._

“Shane, do you want to know what happens to boys that don’t listen?” The man wore a flannel coat, his hood up as the rain poured down on them.

Shane shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Let’s take a walk, son.”

He grabbed Shane by the wrist forcefully. It was nonoptional. “You think your room is bad now?”

_I’m thirty-two years old. I am home, safe in my house in LA. None of this is real._

“Kurt can’t help you now.”

The man was dragging Shane through the woods to a small building, something between a cabin and a shack. “Who is Kurt?” Shane was genuinely curious now. He doesn’t recall hearing any names in the dream before besides his own.

“At this point, it would be more appropriate to ask who _was_ Kurt?” the man said with a snicker. He opened the door to the shack and Shane wished he hadn’t asked.

He motioned around the room. Kurt was all over the room. There was a dismembered leg in the corner, an arm tossed on the couch as casually as if it was a piece of clothing rather than a part of a fresh corpse. Shane vaguely remembered something about severing limbs being a lot harder than they made it out to seem in the movies.

There were blood, guts, and the overwhelming stench of death everywhere. Not rot, but fresh death. That smelled different. Shane didn’t know why he knew that.

On the end table, there was the one piece of Kurt left that was recognizable. His head, mostly untarnished and staring directly into Shane’s eyes.

_Why couldn’t you save me, Shane?_

Ryan had been fast asleep when the phone rang. He knew from the ringtone (a good old fashioned Rick Roll) that it was Shane. He grabbed his phone. 3:06 am. What the hell?

"Hello?" Ryan said, trying to shake off the half asleep feeling.

"Ryan, it's Shane."

"What's up?" Ryan said. "It's three in the morning."

"Is it?" Shane asked. "Shit. I'm sorry. I just... Never mind. It's stupid."

"It's okay," Ryan said. "I'm awake now anyway you might as well tell me whatever it was that you were going to tell me."

"Actually, I had a question," Shane asked. "About the last True Crime episode we filmed."

That hadn't been what Ryan was expecting. "Uh... okay. Do you want me to get my notes?"

"Maybe. The case they thought might be related, the kid was named Kurt, right?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, it was," Ryan said. He got out of bed and went over to his desk. There were still papers and notes everywhere about the case.

"I need to know if you can tell me what year he went missing. And if you have a picture of him," Shane said.

"I'll check," Ryan said. As he searched through the papers "Why do you want to know anyway?" Shane was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Shane, are you still there?"

"Yeah," Shane said.

"He went missing in 1989," Ryan said. "I didn't find a picture of him."

"That's ridiculous," Shane said. "He went missing. Someone's looking for him. Why don't they want us to see the photo?"

"You have a point," Ryan said. "Why are you so worried about this? Do you know something?"

"No, I don't know anything," Shane said. "I just... I had a dream."

"A dream?" Ryan asked. "Like a psychic dream?" Although Ryan thought psychic dreams were possible, he knew Shane didn't and it was starting to make him worried.

"No, it wasn't like that," Shane said. "It's sort of a dream I've been having for years. It sounds crazy but I was wondering if it might not be a random nightmare. If it might be a memory."

"Shane? What happened in the dream?"

"I don't want to tell you," Shane said. "But the short version is in the dream something very bad happened to a kid called Kurt."

"You think it's related?" Ryan asked.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I would just like to see the face of the Kurt that went missing in 1989 and if it's not the same face I don't have to worry, right? How old was he when he went missing?"

"He was ten years old," Ryan said.

"I was ten in the dream," Shane said. "Kurt was a bit older than me. Maybe fifteen or sixteen."

"You were born in 86, right?" Ryan asked. "So you would have been ten in..."

"1996," Shane said. "Which would have made Kurt sixteen at the time."

"The math fits," Ryan said. "But do you really think it's a memory?"

"I've heard about it before. Repressed memories," Shane said. "And I'm trying to remember my life as a kid. Ryan, I can't remember being ten years old."

"Hey, I can barely remember being ten either," Ryan said.

"It's probably nothing," Shane said.

"I'll look into it, okay?" Ryan said. "Are you sure you can't let me in on any of the details?"

"He made us call him Dad," Shane said. "He had us locked away. Probably in the woods. In the dream I was in the forest I had managed to get away but he found me. Kurt didn't make it."

"Jesus," Ryan said. "Now I'm going to have nightmares. Do you want to come over?"

"Come over?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, we could pull an all-nighter and do research and stuff. I don't think I'm going back to sleep after what you told me anyway."

"I had no plans to go back to sleep either," Shane said. "I'll see you in about twenty."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Shane was already regretting everything as he pulled into Ryan's driveway. He was kicking himself  internally  .  After his initial panic, it seemed like only an idiot would jump to the conclusion that the dream had been real, and he had actually known Kurt  . It was a nightmare, not a memory. And even if it was... what are the chances it would even be the same Kurt? Lots of people  were named  Kurt. Lots of people went missing. Shane sat in his car, trying to gather the courage up to go inside and tell Ryan that he had been stupid. That he didn't  really  know anything about Kurt or the case.

Ryan met him outside. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Shane said. He  was embarrassed  that he had let the nightmare get to him so  badly  . "I'm sorry.  I think  I'm not feeling well.  Maybe  I  just  need more sleep."

"You think you're not feeling well?" Ryan asked leading Shane into the house. "You don't know how you feel?"

"Honestly  ?" Shane said. "Self-reflection has never been one of my strong suits. I don't know how  I feel. I  just  know that I don't like it."

"Want to go look at the notes I have in my room?" Ryan asked.

"Notes?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, about the case. You wanted to know more about Kurt, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah." Shane did not feel like learning more about Kurt anymore. He wanted to forget the name, forget his dreams, and go on with his normal life. "Okay, then. Let's go to your bedroom and obsess about crime."

Ryan's desk looked exactly a conspiracy theorist's desk would look like.  All he was missing was a murder board with red strings connecting  seemingly  unrelated information together  .  "So the man thing that connected Kurt to the case was that he went missing in the same area of the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest as Alex Woodbury  .  He went missing ten years later so there's no way for sure we can connect the case, but I thought I would mention Kurt because he fit the same profile ."

"The profile being?"

"Approximately nine or ten years of age, white male, camping in Bedford County Virginia went they went missing ."

"Hmm," Shane said.

"I managed to find a photo of Kurt online through further sleuthing," Ryan said.

"Did you Ask Jeeves?" Shane said.

"It's a less than reliable website, but  I think  we can  probably  trust that the photo  is indeed  of Kurt Mannasey," Ryan said. "Do you want to see it?"

"Sure," Shane said. " I think  if I see it and it's not the same Kurt then I can  just  tell myself I'm an idiot and forget about it."

Ryan opened his laptop screen and switched tabs, showing a photo of Kurt Mannasey, missing since 1989 . "Well?" Ryan asked.

 "I mean it's hard to recognize. He's at least five years older in my dream. And less... intact," Shane said. Even so, he had seen Kurt's head in the dream, even though it was a lifeless teenage version of him. But the eyes... those eyes. Looking right at Shane. Pleading for help. "But yeah. That's him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm going to try to update faster. I've been in a bit of a writing slump but I have a draft of Chapter Five so I should be able to post fairly soon. Also, my tumblr is thinkofmethatsalliaskofyou if anyone is interested.

Ryan was at his desk, twenty-seven tabs open in his browser, and the third pot of coffee he had made since Shane had arrived in the wee hours of the morning  . Ryan hadn't slept at all.  He was pouring through as much information as he could find, trying to find anything relevant to a missing boy named Kurtis Mannasey  . Shane had curled up in Ryan's bed about a half hour ago. He was still  fully  dressed and his arms twitched as if his sleep was anything but restful. Ryan felt a pang of sadness inside him. Sadness for Shane, but  maybe  a little bit of sadness for himself, too. He finally had Shane Madej in his bed, but this was not at all what he had been picturing in his fantasies. Ryan had the urge to join Shane in bed and sleep next to him. It wouldn't even be weird if he did.  They had shared a bed before when they stayed at haunted places for Supernatural episodes  . It never seemed to bother Shane a bit.  It wasn't awkward for Shane, because there was no possibility that anything would ever happen between the two of them . Ryan didn't even register on his radar.

He sipped on another cup of coffee. His brain wasn't working right. Ryan couldn't focus. He read things but they wouldn't register in his brain. He would immediately forget them. He should sleep. 

“Ryan?"

"Yeah?" Ryan said. He hadn't thought Shane was awake.

"I would like to wake up now," Shane said.

"You're not awake now?" Ryan asked.

"Ryan, please wake me up," Shane said  calmly . It was pretty spooky talking to someone who was sleeping. Ryan had heard that waking someone up in the middle of a nightmare, but he was pretty sure it was an old wives tale. That didn't mean that waking Shane up was the right answer though.

"Shane, wake up!" Ryan tried. He wasn't yelling but he was talking loud enough that it had been him sleeping he would have stirred. Shane said nothing now. He was laying there still.  Maybe  he was okay. Shane hadn't told him any of the details of the nightmare he had, but Ryan got that it was more than a little unpleasant. Shane seemed to think it was a repressed memory. Ryan wasn't so sure. It might be true, but also Shane could have seen pictures of Kurt before and  just  put a face to his nightmares. If it was a repressed memory.... the implications were a lot.

Ryan had an idea of what the next step would be. There was no way they were going to take this little of information to Kurt's family after all these years. There  probably  wasn't anything in the dream that would help the police out. So the next step would be to try to determine if the dream was real, one way or another. He would have to ask Shane's mom if she had any reason to believe that anything like this had happened. Ryan was hoping that when Shane was acting a little more like himself that he would tell more details of the dream. It was a little hard solving a mystery without all the facts. Shane was withholding information. Interfering with the investigation. In Ryan's tired state that almost seemed funny.

Shane sat up straight, opening his eyes and rubbing his head. Ryan  tentatively  decided he was awake this time. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I thought you were okay. I'm sorry."

"Was I  really  beating my fists and screaming or did that not translate into the physical world?" Shane asked.

"No, you were mumbling but no screaming or anything. You weren't moving."

”Huh,” Shane said. “That always works for those kids in the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.”

”You okay?” Ryan asked.

”Yeah, I’m fine when I’m awake, it’s just generally upsetting when I’m asleep. Awake is better.”

”You have to sleep sometime,” Ryan said.

”So do you,” Shane pointed out.

”You’re in my bed.”

”You’re tiny. There’s room,” Shane said. “But I can get up if you want."

”I’m five feet and nine and three-quarters inches,” Ryan said. “You don’t have to get up.” He sighed, crawling into bed next to Shane. There was plenty of room. “I’m not tiny, you’re  just  a giant."

Shane didn’t say anything after that and Ryan wasn’t sure whether the silence was uncomfortable or not. He closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable without getting too close to Shane. It was easier said than done. His whole body was  painfully  aware of Shane’s presence. Ryan wasn’t sure he felt tired anymore. Shane had laid back down, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you going to tell me what happened in the dream?” Ryan asked. He hadn’t meant to but it  just  came out. On the phone had said he had  been locked  away.

_He made us call him Dad._

“I’m wondering if we were in those woods you were talking about. The ones where Kurt went missing,” Shane said.

“Maybe,” Ryan said. He went missing in the Jefferson National Forest in Virginia, same as Alex Woodbury.  But the Jefferson National Forest and the George Washington Forest are right next to each other. Together they take up 1.8 million acres. So… somewhere in there.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down very much,” Shane said.

“Virginia, West Virginia, or Kentucky. Do you remember ever going to the woods for vacation or something?” 

“I don’t remember much of my childhood,” Shane said. “ I think  … that  I might  need to call my mom.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I expected. I am still actively writing this story, I’m just moving slow. But I have not abandoned it!

Ryan had agreed to a nap before the harrowing task of calling Shane’s mom. Shane didn’t have any interest in going back to sleep. He was tired as hell but he was agitated and restless. His head was pounding. He considered asking Ryan if he had anything stronger to drink than coffee and Yoo-hoo, but he didn’t want to worry Ryan. Ryan was a natural worrier.

So they were just two bros, platonically pretending to sleep while they laid in the same bed and saying nothing at all. Shane was glad to have Ryan with him, but he didn’t have the time or energy to analyze those feelings right now.

“Ryan, are you asleep?” Shane whispered.

“Nah. What’s up?”

“What am I supposed to say to my mom?”

He had thought about it in his head, but every single way he thought of broaching the subject would terrify his mother. _Hey, Mom. Do I have repressed memories from being kidnapped or was I just imagining that?_

“Maybe ask her if you ever went to Jefferson National Park when you were a kid,” Ryan suggested. “Or you could say you were trying to remember where you went for vacation as a kid. That you just remember a forest.”

“Okay,” Shane said. “I’m just going to call her. Before I chicken out.” He was holding his phone, but he wasn’t dialling.

“It’ll be okay,” Ryan said although he was mostly saying that as a reflex.

“Or… we could pretend this never happened and we never discussed this at all,” Shane suggested.

“If that’s what you want,” Ryan said.

“But… he’s probably still out there. Kidnapping little boys,” Shane said.

“Call your mom,” Ryan said gently. “Maybe it’s not a memory. Maybe you just heard about Kurt when you were a kid and had weird dreams after we did the story on True Crime.”

“Maybe,” Shane said. He didn’t believe it though. He summoned up all his courage and dialled his mother’s number. He was panicking as the dial tone rang. Maybe she wouldn’t pick up.

“Hello?” his mother’s voice came through the phone. Tired but chipper.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Shane! It’s early for you to be calling isn’t it? It’s got to be pretty early in California.”

“It’s almost eight,” Shane said, shrugging even though he knew it would not translate over the phone.

“How’s it going, hun?”

“I’m alright,” Shane said, although he was exaggerating at best. “I wanted to ask you a question. I was trying to remember something from back when I was a kid.”

“Oh.” Her tone was different now. Almost cold.

“Did we ever go to a forest? Like maybe Jefferson National Forest or George Washington.” _So subtle, Shane._

“Shane, what do you remember?”

“Nothing,” Shane said, pinching the bridge of his nose hoping that someday this headache would go away.

“You never wanted to talk about it before,” his mom said. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Mom, I’ve been having nightmares,” Shane said. “And I don’t know if they’re memories or if they’re just bad dreams.”

“You were in severe shock. I’m not surprised you don’t remember anything. You refused to talk about what happened during the nine days you were missing.”

“Nine days?” Shane said. “I was missing for nine days,” he said it aloud for Ryan’s benefit. Ryan patted his hand, trying to be comforting but Shane just wished he wouldn’t. “How did I get back?”

“They found you in the forest. You were disoriented and unable or unwilling to articulate what had happened to you.” Shane thought she might be trying to hold back tears.

“Mom, it’s okay. I think I might be starting to remember things but I’m okay.”

“I just wanted to know what happened… But I didn’t want to hurt you any worse. Maybe I didn’t really want to know at all.”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Shane said. “I’m here with my friend Ryan from the crime show. You remember him, right?”

“The cute one?” she asked.

“Yes, the cute one,” Shane said rolling his eyes. There were a hundred different words she could have used to describe Ryan other than cute, but she had to pick the one that would embarrass him the most. “We’re trying to figure things out. I’ll call you when I know more, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Shane.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Bye.” He hung up. “Don’t tell people I love my mom and have feelings. It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t,” Ryan said. “Although, I’m going to tell _everyone_ that your mom called me cute.”

Instead of firing back some witty retort, Shane just sighed deeply.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked.

“Basically, she said I went missing for nine days and they found me in the woods but I wouldn’t say what happened. Curse past me.”

“That kind of sounds like it’s more of a memory than a bad dream,” Ryan said. “Sometimes people block out memories if they’re too painful to deal with. You were just a kid. So what do we do next?”

“I hate to say this,” Shane said. “But I think I’ve got to go back to sleep. This was the first time I dreamed about Kurt. If I go to sleep and go through the dream again there’s a good chance I might remember something else.”

“Maybe,” Ryan said.

“I have to sleep sometime anyway, right?” Shane said, forcing a smile. “Stay with me for emotional support?”

“Sure,” Ryan said. “I’ll watch you sleep if you find that more comforting than creepy.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Good news, I'm still writing this story. (I'm assuming you consider that good news if you've gotten this far.) Just a quick note, I went back to previous chapters and fixed some spacing issues and typos. Also, I seem to have put Kurt's last name as Massey in chapter three and Mannasey in later chapters. His last name is actually Mannassey just for future reference.

This time, Shane tried to notice as many details as he could. His subconscious was trying to tell him something. He looked at the plants in case that made every difference. Almost two million acres of woods, they  probably  looked all the same.

Did he even know types of trees? Would he know an oak if he saw one? He knew what evergreens looked like, and he knew what apple trees looked like. The trees in the dream were unclear anyway. The harder he tried to focus on them, the more the trees became pixelated. It was like he was playing a video game with a poor graphics card. Green leaves, brown bark. It didn't matter. He might as well have been playing Minecraft. Instead, he tried to stay present and remember that he was dreaming. He looked around with a soft focus.

"SHANE!" A loud voice called through the forest. No, that wasn't right. Father never yelled in the forest. He wouldn't want anyone to hear what he was up to. But it was a dream, and this man was not a real person with thoughts of his own. He was a projection of Shane's subconscious mind. And while Father was his worst fear and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to him... Wouldn't it be sort of like talking to his own subconscious?  Obviously  , some part of him somewhere was trying to remember the memories for whatever reason . So deep down, somewhere inside, Shane knew something. And he owed it to Kurt to figure out what that something he knew was.

"Father?" Shane called out. "I'm over here."

The rain started pouring, all at once. Even knowing it wasn't real, Shane couldn't fight back a shiver. He wondered if his body shivered out there in the real world. Where Ryan was watching him.

_“I’ll watch you sleep if you find that more comforting than creepy."_

Yes, Shane did feel safer with Ryan. The Ying to his Yang. Ryan was the one that  was supposed  to be afraid, and Shane was the one meant to hold things together. He told himself now he was holding things together for Ryan's sake.

Father walked out of the woods wielding an axe. Shane was not surprised, but he still felt his chest tighten. The flannel coat he was wearing  was stained  with blood. Was it Kurt's blood? Had he dismembered Kurt with an axe? It seemed as logical a conclusion as any.

"Hello, Shane," the voice was menacing, teasing, almost playful.

Did he let us run? Did he let us run so he could chase us? Hunt us down like prey?

His mind would not answer that question.

"Why are you here?" Shane asked. It wasn't necessarilythe most sensible question to ask but maybe it would be a good jumping off point.

"Why are you here, Shane?" Father redirected that question right back at him. "Shouldn't you have stayed at the campground? Don't you wish you hadn't wandered off now? Don't you wish you had listened to your mother?"

"Don't you talk about my mother," Shane said, for a moment forgetting that the man in front of him was not real.

"Relax," Father said. "She's not my type." He laughed, a cruel belly laugh of a drunk man that thinks he's a lot funnier than he is.

"Was Kurt your type?" Shane asked. He hadn't meant to say it, but it slipped out.

"He was," Father said. "But he's getting older now. I like 'em young. Like you Shane-y."

"I'm thirty-two years old," Shane said. "I'm a grown man. I'm  probably  a foot taller than you."

"Maybe your body is thirty-two. But your mind? Your mind is stuck back there in 1996. You're an eternal ten-year-old. That's what I like about you."

"I have a job. A house. You didn't break me," Shane said. But even as he said it the rain poured harder and thunder cracked as the storm intensified.

"Your body is back at your house, yes," Father agreed. "Your job making home movies. You know, I've made a few home movies in my time, too."

"Where do you keep them?" Shane asked.

"Oh, you'll never know. You would love to solve a crime wouldn't you and impress your little boyfriend."

"He's not little, he's five foot nine and three quarters," Shane said. "Also, he's not my boyfriend." He added the second bit almost as an afterthought.

Shane realized that his “father” wasn’t  just  shorter than his six foot four inches, but he was genuinely short. Ryan  probably  had at least five inches on him. That would make him what? Five foot four?

"He's home with you right now, isn't he? Watching you sleep. How romantic."

This was not at all what he expected to be talking about. Why were they talking about Ryan? Ryan had  absolutely  nothing to do with anything that had happened to him in 1996. Father was distracting him from the truth.  Maybe  even protecting him from the truth.

“Yeah, he’s real sweet like that. Where are we now?" He motioned at the forest. He was tall now. He had started the dream as a child, but now he was grown up.  Disconcertingly , he was still naked.

"We're going back to the cabin," Father grumbled. "I'll show you what I do to boys who don't listen."

"Like what you did with Kurt?" Shane asked.

"I cut him up to pieces," Father said. " Maybe  he will be your dinner."

"What's your name?" Shane asked. He was trying to think of anything tangible he could bring back with him to the real waking world. Anything that might be some sort of half-assed clue.

“You don’t  really  think I would tell you that, do you, Shane?” He asked. “You think you’re in control here. You think because this is your mind you have control over it. But you’re wrong. After all these years you’re still thinking of me. I still have a hold over you. I always will.”

“It’s embarrassing actually that my subconscious came up with such a cheesy monologue. You’re like a Bond villain. No wonder I got away from you.” He was missing nine days. But he got out somehow. Not something Kurt could say.

“Your boyfriend isn’t going to wake you up. He’s asleep.”

Shane started to say something but he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say.

“Oh, right. He’s not your boyfriend. You’re too damaged for a relationship. Not that you wouldn’t like him to be your boyfriend. If you weren’t so  emotionally  stunted and dead inside.”

Shane’s head was spinning. He had been doing a decent job of keeping from  being distracted  , but he had to admit that cut a little. Was it true? “I’m not dead inside,” he said  uncertainly .

“You don’t remember for a reason,” Father said. “You forgot to protect yourself. Are you sure you want to remember, Shane?”

“I want to remember,” Shane said.

 “So be it.”

And then everything started to snap into place.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the Red Bull and coffee running through his veins, Ryan had finally powered down. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep. He was supposed to be watching Shane so he could wake him up if he looked like he was in distress. But Ryan was plenty exhausted himself and he had settled down into a perfectly normal, perfectly non-lucid dream.

If Shane was plagued by nightmares, Ryan was plagued by just the opposite. His dreams filled him with a unique sense of joy that he had never quite experienced in his waking life. Sometimes, the amazing dreams were worse than the bad ones. Sometimes it was hard waking up and realizing that the perfect dream wasn’t real.

That night’s dream was perhaps inspired by reality, after all in the real world he was in bed with Shane, too. But in the dream it was very different.

Shane was smiling at him. He was lying on his side staring at Ryan with sleepy eyes. He looked content. There was nothing covering Shane’s body but a thin sheet. Ryan touched his chest, swirling patterns with his finger.

“Is everything alright?” Shane asked.

“Of course it’s alright. Why wouldn’t things be alright?” Ryan asked. Nothing could hurt him here.

“You look tired,” Shane said.

“I’m okay,” Ryan said. He didn’t want to talk just now. He moved closer to Shane and kissed him on the lips. It was sweet at first, but it didn’t take long to develop into a greedy, heavy make out session. Beneath the sheets, Ryan felt their naked bodies pressed up together and it felt so good. Everything felt so right… Except there was something he was forgetting. It felt important, but he couldn’t seem to recall…

 

* * *

 

Shane was back in the dungeon. It was a basement that had seven cells with iron bars. Had there been a prison there once? Or did Father design and execute this house plan? Maybe it was some kind of jail from the 1800s. Although that seemed unlikely. They were in the middle of nowhere after all. Why would there be a prison in the middle of a huge wooded area? It was a national park now.

There were seven cells, and young Shane was alone in one of them. Grown up, six foot four Shane was standing in the cell watching, but his younger self didn’t seem to notice. He was laying naked on a pile of hay. There were no windows and minimal light. Shane was tossing straw up into the air and catching it absentmindedly. There wasn’t anything else to do.

Shane wondered if he should say something to this younger incarnation of himself. But someone beat him to the punch.

“Hey! Shane. Are you awake?” The voice was urgent, but no more than a whisper. It came from the cell next to him. He couldn’t see who was in there, there was a cement wall separating them.

Young Shane pushed past old Shane as if he were nothing. He went real close to the wall and whispered. “I’m awake. Karl, we have to be quiet. He’ll hear us.”

“I know,” Karl said from the other side of the wall. “But things are getting dire. Have you noticed that the population around here is thinning out?”

“There were four of us when I got here,” young Shane said. Somehow Shane didn’t think the other boys made it out of there alive.

“It’s just you and me now,” Kurt said solemnly. “He likes you. You’re his favorite. That’s not a good thing. But he’s getting bored of me and that’s not a good thing either. I think he plans to kill me soon.”

“Does it plan to kill me?” Young Shane asked.

“No,” Kurt said. “I was ten when I got here. That was a few years back by now. I used to be his favorite. Now I’m getting too old.”

Shane balled his hands up into fists. He didn’t want to hear this. But he had asked for the truth. And his subconscious was opening up. For better of for worse.

“We gotta get out of here,” Kurt said. “I have a plan, but we’re only going to have one shot at it. If it fails we won’t be able to try a second time.” Kurt’s hand became visible. He must have been sticking his arm out the bars of the cell. “Can you reach to grab this from me?”

Young Shane easily fit his skinny arm out of the bars. His hand was close to Kurt’s now. “I think so. What is it?”

“It’s pills,” Kurt said. “Some kind of sedatives. He used to give them to me to calm down sometimes. I think that maybe it you slip it in his whiskey he might not taste it.”

“What good will that do?” Shane asked.

“If you can keep him down here long enough, he’ll fall asleep. If he’s in your cell when he’s asleep, he’ll have the keys. It’s our best shot to run.”

Wet tears were forming on Shane’s face. He knew exactly how this was going to end. He was going to get out and Kurt wasn’t going to. He thought of the other dream, the other where Kurt’s cold lifeless eyes were staring at him. Shane thought he could hear Kurt saying _Why didn’t you save me?_ But what if he was saying something else? Kurt knew he was going to die, somehow Shane knew that. Kurt had saved him.

Kurt voice rang out from the next cell. “I saved you Shane. Don’t waste it.”

That was when Shane woke up, his face wet from crying in his sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Shane woke up, his face wet with tears, holding back sobs. He looked at the bed next to him. Ryan had nodded off. Good, he didn’t want Ryan to see him like this. Besides, Ryan needed the sleep. Shane couldn’t keep his friend up forever. It was irresponsible and selfish.

He tried to crawl out of bed without calling attention to himself, but his attempts were fruitless as Ryan was using his arm as a pillow.

“Hmm?” Ryan mumbled as he half woke up and then in sudden realization, “Shit, I feel asleep.” He looked up to see Shane who had been evidently crying. “I’m so sorry, Shane.”

“It’s okay,” Shane said. “I just need a minute.”

Ryan found him some tissues and Shane was torn between hiding in the bathroom and staying here like a mess just because it was where Ryan was. Ryan sat on the bed and Shane stood, trying to decide whether to leave or stay. “What happened?” Ryan asked.

“I… uh, remembered some stuff,” Shane said. A single sob escaped him, but he didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not in front of Ryan. “I’m not crying, you’re crying,” he said nonsensically.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ryan asked.

Shane shook his head and sat down next to his friend. No, there was nothing Ryan could do. Being there helped a little, but there was no magic fix for this. He was uncovering childhood trauma that he had repressed for years unknowingly. He thought about something that Father had said.

_“Oh, right. He’s not your boyfriend. You’re too damaged for a relationship. Not that you wouldn’t like him to be your boyfriend. If you weren’t so emotionally stunted and dead inside.”_

On some level, Shane knew this was his subconscious talking to him. Some part of him that was locked away and more away than his waking self. “Ryan?” he asked. “Am I emotionally stunted and dead inside?”

They were sitting close together, which had never seemed like much of a big deal before but now that they were sitting on Ryan’s bed, it felt strangely intimate. Ryan looked surprised at the question. He awkwardly put a hand on Shane’s shoulder as if to comfort him. “I don’t think you’re emotionally stunted and dead inside.”

“You’re just saying that,” Shane said. He wiped at his face with a tissue, somewhat calmer now.

“No, I’m not,” Ryan said. “I think you’re incredibly brave. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, I don’t even _want_ to imagine what you’ve been through. Shane, you'r the strongest person I know.”

That made Shane feel like doing two things, crying and kissing his best friend. He opted for the later, leaning in to kiss Ryan gently on the lips. Their bodies unconsciously moved closer to each other and though soon the kissing had stopped, Shane found himself holding Ryan tightly which was just as comforting. Ryan was sitting on Shane’s lap now, their bodies tangled together in a desperate embrace. For a few moments they just stayed there like that. Shane felt much calmer now, although he was very aware of his heart beating in his chest.

Then they were kissing again. Shane wasn’t sure how it happened, but it lasted longer this time, a heavier kiss with a lot more tongue. Ryan’s hands were running through Shane’s hair and it felt good, it felt really good… Except…

Shane was still thinking about the dream. He might have been ready to kiss Ryan, but things seemed to be going farther down that physical road and Shane reacted in panic. He hadn’t slept in so long, and the sleep he did have was plagued by nightmares of things he didn’t want to remember. But he had to. And remembering _that_ was an absolute libido killer.

He pulled away from the kiss. “Ryan, I can’t. I’m sorry.” Before Ryan could say anything else Shane ran out the door.

 


End file.
